


Hair Trouble

by JedimasterMegan



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Casual reminder that the Kaminoans suck, Dogma messed up Big Time, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sibling Love, but everything's ok in the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:08:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21922660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JedimasterMegan/pseuds/JedimasterMegan
Summary: "Tup storms into the 'fresher area, purposely ignoring the shouts of the person behind him. He doesn't want to talk to Dogma. Not now. Not after this morning."
Relationships: Dogma & CT-5385 | Tup
Comments: 1
Kudos: 109





	Hair Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> A little hurt/comfort Christmas present for my friend, Emma! :3

Tup storms into the 'fresher area, purposely ignoring the shouts of the person behind him. He doesn't want to talk to Dogma. Not now. Not after this morning.

"Tup! Hold on a second, just- Tup, wait!"

Tup hesitates, just for a second, and it's enough time for Dogma to catch up to him. "Tup-"

"What do you _want_ , Dogma?" he says. It comes out a little harsher than he intended it to be, and the small pang of guilt he feels at that isn't enough to complete drown the little voice inside his head that says Dogma _deserves_ it after what he did. He doesn't like that voice very much.

"To talk," Dogma answers, and Tup wraps his arms around himself, considering. 

He tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ear. The hair Dogma came _this close_ to completely cutting off. As clones, they aren't allowed to have much, but hair styles are one of the few things the Kaminoans will let them get away with in an otherwise identical army.

Tup keeps his hair longer than most, toeing the line of what regulation allows, but he wouldn't have it any other way. Tup _loves_ his hair, it's one of the few things that makes him _him_.

And with a pair of scissors, Dogma nearly took that away.

Tup thinks he has a right to be angry and scared after that, to want to stay away from him. But Dogma is still his brother. He won't be able to avoid him forever.

He takes a deep breath. "Fine," he says, turning around. "What do you want to talk about?"

"This morning."

Tup can feel his heart start racing at the thought. "What about it?"

Dogma lets out a sign. "I... I made a mistake earlier. A _big_ one. But I think I have a way to fix it." He takes a step closer, looking like he's about to reach for his hair, and Tup _panics_.

He slaps Dogma's hands away and jumps back before he can even register what he's doing. Fear claws at his chest, making it feel like he can't breathe.

Dogma just stands there, hands still hanging in the air, until he slowly, ever so slowly, lets them drop to his sides. Tup eyes him warily, muscles still tensed and ready to flee, but Dogma makes no other move towards him. He watches Dogma bite his bottom lip, hands tightening into fists, as his brother searches his face. For what, Tup doesn't know.

"Do you trust me?" Dogma asks, and in that moment, Tup finally understands.

He once heard one of their trainers say "the eyes are the window to the soul," and when he looks into his brother's eyes now, so similar and yet so different from his own, he realizes that Dogma is _afraid_ . Afraid of what the trainers might say, of what the Kaminoans could do. Afraid of what might happen to their squad. Afraid of what might happen to _Tup_.

It was never about Dogma trying to protect himself. It was about Dogma trying to protect _him_.

The tension bleeds out of Tup in an instant. Without thinking, he reaches out and pulls Dogma into a hug. "Of course I trust you," he says.

He hopes Dogma knows just how much he means it.

His brother squeezes back once before breaking the hug, smiling. Dogma reaches for Tup's hair, and while he doesn't smack his hand away like last time, Tup does catch his wrist. Dogma tenses again as his eyes widen in confusion.

"Promise me you're not going to cut it?" Tup says, voice coming out smaller than he would have liked. He feels more than sees Dogma relax, and his brother nods.

"I promise."

Tup slowly releases Dogma's wrist and lets his arm fall to his side. His brother steps behind him, one hand gently beginning to gather his hair as the other reaches for something hidden in his pocket again. Tup presses his own hands against his legs and closes his eyes, trying not to fidget. He can't see what Dogma is doing, and his mind can't help but wonder if he'll still hear that tell-tale _snip_ of scissors against his neck.

_Dogma promised_ , he tells himself. _He promised me he wouldn't._

Still. He feels like he's too vulnerable, too exposed. And that makes him _scared_.

His hair is suddenly pulled tight, boarding on the edge of painful. He clenches his hands into tight fists. Not because of the pain, but because of rising anxiety he can feel building in his chest. "Dogma-"

"I'm almost done, just hold still," his brother says somewhat distractedly. There's a snap, and Dogma whispers a curse that sounds suspiciously like something one of their trainers said a few days back. Hearing it come from _Dogma_ of all people nearly makes Tup laugh. He tries his best to stay still as possible however.

"Done," Dogma says, coming around in front of him. He reaches for Tup's hair one more time, fixing something Tup thinks, before stepping back with a small smile. "So. What do you think?"

Tup tilts his head, smiling as he opens his mouth to ask _what_ exactly his brother has done to his hair–

He pauses.

Tilts his head again.

It feels... heavier somehow, like an added weight in just one area. It's a little strange, but Tup finds himself already getting used to it. In a few minutes, it probably wouldn't feel any different at all.

Dogma waves him over to the nearest mirror. Tup can't help the sharp inhale he makes when he sees his reflection.

"How did you...." He trails off, running a hand over his hair from his forehead to the tight bun at the back of his head.

Dogma pulls back his sleeve, revealing small, black bands wrapped around his wrist. "Hair ties. I made them after... what happened before." He looks away as he says that, playing with the edges of his shirt. 

Tup knows Dogma only does that when he's nervous.

"I... I shouldn't have done that to you." Dogma continues, still not meeting his eyes "I know it hurt you, and I felt really bad about it afterwards. I wanted to make it up to you, somehow. As long as you keep your hair up, you don't have to worry about the regulation saying it has to fit under your helmet, so I looked around on the holonet and I thought maybe these migh-"

Tup doesn't let him finish. He pulls Dogma into another hug, a gesture that couldn't _possibly_ be enough to convey the emotions currently swelling in his chest, every bit of joy and appreciation and love that has him fighting back happy tears and leaves him grinning as he buries his face in his brother's shoulder, and yet somehow seems to work perfectly all the same. " _Thank you,_ " he whispers. 

The slight tightening of their embrace leaves Tup sure that this time, Dogma knows just how much he means it.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm jedi-master-megan on tumblr if you wanna say hi!


End file.
